19th June 2000 Lake Garda
Trip Start
Apr 27, 2000
1
54
81
Trip End
Aug 09, 2000
Sermione, Torbole,
Italy
Thursday, June 26, 2003
We decided to use the Autostrada from Vincenza to the Sermione offramp, for a day at lake Garda. The drive to the Vincenza entrance to the Autostrada took close to a hour, what with traffic into Vincenza, and then the five kilometres or so of industrial estate to the entrance. Once on, we experienced for the first time, what has been described by others as the most terrifying of all Italian Autostradas. This is the Venice to Milan Autostrada. Three lanes most of the way. The two inside lanes packed with trucks and slower vehicles jockeying each other for position at around 110-120 kmph. Those wanting to pass, like me, ducked into the outside lane at 150 kmph, where we stayed until a faster car appeared in the rearview mirror. At this point you pull back in, to let them pass at 180kmph. Mainly Ferrari, BMW, Mercedes, Audi. I was only passed by these sort of cars travelling at 160 kmph or faster. I got passed a lot. When a VW wagon passed me, I was embarrassed. The Autogrilades are amazing. These are the restaurants/cafes attached to the service stations on the Autostradas. On this Autostrada, they are built over the top of the entire six lanes of the road. As I have said before, the French serve the most abominable coffee and food at their roadside stops. The Italians take their food and coffee seriously. They show respect, and I appreciate it.
We took the Sermione off ramp, joined the "Gold Coast" type traffic and threaded our way out along the peninsular which is five kilometres long but only a couple of hundred metres wide. It is lined with holiday resorts on both sides. Half of the population of Germany and Northern Europe are to be found holidaying here, and at the hundreds of resorts all around the lake, which is about 50 kilometres long (about 150 km of shoreline). The old town of Sirmione, which used to consist of a castle, fishing village and a number of huge villas occupying the high ground right at the end of the peninsular, has been converted into exclusive hotels and a tourist town of cafes, gelataria, restaurants, and expensive clothing shops. The fishermen long ago gave up fishing, and make a living taking tourists on lake cruises. We parked in a large parking station, and walked the last kilometer along the promenade on the western side of the peninsular. Lots of swans, and most of the ducks had large families of chicks that they were initiating to the water. We walked through the town, which is pretty much enclosed within the walls of the old caslte and not much more than 100 metres square. It is pretty, with the main towers surrounded by water, and for a tourist town, remarkably inoffensive. We then switched to the eastern side of the peninsular, and walked to the end, along paths lined with olive trees (they will grow them anywhere). There is a sulphur spring toward the end, with the expected "odour", not much in the way of a beach, stretches of reed beds, and several hotels have built timber decks out over the water. They set out deck chairs and umbrellas, with ladders down to the water, and back on the land, have bar/restaurant facilities. The lake in all directions was shrouded in mist/smog.
We gelatoed on the way back to the car, and then set out to drive the length of the lake on the eastern side. We had determined that there is a "plate" restaurant at Torbole, right at the northern end, and planned on a late lunch. We drove along the southern shore to Peschiera, which is a pretty town, built in and around a fortress and walled harbour. The Austrians built it in the 1860, during the Wars for Independence. The drive up the eastern shore is a pretty one. The western shore has many more villages and towns, is slowerer, and the second 25 km constantly through tunnels, so we are sure we made the right choice. Nevertheless, with holiday traffic, caravans etc, it is slow. Slow enough to take in some great views. The mist seemed to clear as the afternoon wore on, so we could see the far shore more clearly. It is also helped by the fact that the winds from the Swiss Alps, which tower over the northern end of the lake, intensify the further north you go. We were amused by the tourists who claim every square inch of rocky, pebbly beach to sunbake.
We arrived at Torbole well after 2.00 pm, and the traffic was so thick and the streets so narrow, that we gave up on trying to find the restaurant. We knew that this is one of the most popular spots for sailboarding, but we aren't too sure if we didn't strike the town in the middle of a major event. There was an enormous "Mistral" prescence. They are a brand of sailboard. There had to be many hundreds of sailboards on the lake, in an area about 4 km square, and there were Mistral banners everywhere. We drove to a carpark in the bush above the town, where we had a great view of the lake. The mountains around this top end of the lake, and particularly the western and northern sections, drop sheer to the water, from thousands of metres. The sailboards were speed boards, and could pass in and out of the viewfinder of the video in seconds.
We eventually drove up through the mountains to Mori. Again we were amazed, even here, climbing higher and higher into the mountains, all arable land was under crops, the hillsides terraced, vinyards everywhere. Higher and higher till Mori, where we entered the Autostrada which links Italy with central Europe. From here is was an 80 kilometer run down out of the mountains to Verona. Most of the way is alongside the Fiume Adige, which is wide and at this late stage in the season, shallow, fast running and a vast bed of gravel. Everything scoured loose by the ice and snow must be carried into this river. The transports come down from Europe, make for heavy traffic at very high speed. It is like a long roller coaster ride out of the mountains. At Verona, we hung a left (East), onto the Milan-Venice Autostrada, and on Chesies advise, took the Vincenza east off ramp. Big mistake. Again. We spent half an hour trying to extract ourselves from the triangle formed between the city and the two autostradas, before finaly seeking advise from a native, and eventually doing some cross country bashing to find our road south. That was enough for me. Tomorrow we aren't going anywhere.
